The Voyager Missing Scenes Series
by Eydie Munroe
Summary: There always seems to be a missing scene or two between plot points. These fill in the gaps in a variety of episodes. More chapters will come as I review the Voyager series again.
1. 1x01-2 Caretaker

**The Missing Scenes Series**

**Episode 1x01 - Caretaker**

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: These are the missing scenes at the end of Caretaker, between when Captain Janeway destroys the Caretaker's array and when she tells Tom that the Maquis will be joining her crew.

* * *

Captain Janeway departed the bridge at the end of her shift, making her way back to her quarters without really seeing the trip. The phaser she wore rattled slightly in its holster, reminding her that it was still there, and of the necessity for it. Things were a mess. Nothing in all of her Starfleet training could have prepared her for the situation she now found herself in. Ships that were lost were in the habit of being lost forever. As she walked, she idly wondered if there were any other ships that might have already spent years making their way back to the Alpha Quadrant.

Before she even realized it she was in her quarters, a strange place that she hadn't really spent enough time in to get used to yet. There were only a few things in it that weren't standard starship issue – practical things that she thought she would need over the next few weeks. There were no picture frames, no books, nothing really decorative. Mark had suggested that she take a couple things on board to make her home away from home more comfortable, but she assured him that she would continue to take things here and there every time Voyager returned to Earth.

_Earth…_

For the first time since destroying the Caretaker's array, the enormity of what had happened started to hit her. Mark was gone. Molly was gone. Her mother, her sister, her friends, her mentors…all gone. Her life seemed to be travelling on a perfectly normal plain when they left Deep Space Nine the week before. And now, completely against her will, that life was over. Someone may as well have held a phaser to her chest and pulled the trigger.

The very thought of it reminded her of her sidearm, which she pulled out and held up in the dim light to look at. Standard Starfleet issue – just like everything else in the room. Like everything else on Voyager, it was brand new – not even a scratch or a mark on it. It dropped to her side, still tightly clutched in her fingers, and her eyes closed as her headache started to pound again. She slowly sat down on the couch, putting the phaser up on the window ledge behind it and staring at it again. Having to wear it within her own ship was yet another reminder that life as she knew it was finished.

She had no idea how long she had been there before the unfamiliar stars started to blur in front of her. The tears came fast and hard, one arm hugging her torso as her head fell against the arm she had rested along the back of the couch. Her crying was guttural, the realization of losing her life now falling on her as a ton of emotional bricks. She had no concept of time, just the knowledge that her heart was being ripped in half and her body being turned inside out. The sobs eventually slowed, but she didn't move from her spot.

The sound of the door chime startled her, her headache giving her another sharp pound when she straightened up too fast. Quickly wiping the tears off her face and hoping that her makeup wouldn't give her away, she cleared her throat and drew a few deep breaths before calling, "Come in."

Chakotay was standing at the door, flanked by a pair of security guards. One of them looked to the captain, waiting for her nod of approval before moving back. The Maquis leader took a small step inside and looked around the room until he spotted her to his left. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Captain."

She shook her head. "Not at all. What can I do for you?"

He came the rest of the way inside, the doors sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss. Her rigid posture and tightly controlled voice told him immediately that she had been crying, but he let it go, instinctively knowing that the last thing she would want was to be found out. "I'd like to talk to you about what's going to happen now," he told her, fighting down the nervous tension that filled his stomach, "with my crew."

The captain gestured for him to sit down on the other end of the couch. "I've been thinking about that as well, Captain," she said. "I'm sorry about the Liberty. She was a fine ship."

"She was a broken down rust bucket that was barely able to travel at warp." He sat down opposite her, eyes glancing at the business end of the phaser that separated the two of them. "I never thought I would, but I'm going to miss her." Her prisoner allowed himself to smile for just a moment, but quickly tamped it down. "Well, you ultimately got what you came for," he said, getting straight to the heart of the matter. "Capture Chakotay and his Maquis renegades."

"I did," she agreed softly. "But it didn't exactly go according to plan." Janeway smiled when he chuckled, pleased that at least he seemed to have some sense of humour. She got up and went to the replicator to order some coffee. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water would be fine," he told her, very aware of the trust gesture she had just made by leaving the phaser on the window ledge beside him. "What will you do with us?" he finally asked, braving the question.

"Well, according to Starfleet's directive, I'm to immediately place you under arrest," she explained as she handed his glass to him, "and you spend the rest of the trip home in the brig." Her face was unreadable as she sat down again, taking the time to cross her legs and exude the air of authority that she usually managed to carry. "But Voyager's brig is only designed to hold about ten people, and the rest of your crew would be locked down in quarters until we get back to Earth."

Chakotay frowned a bit as he watched her, trying to guess where she was going. "Doesn't exactly sound comfortable."

"No, it doesn't." She took a swallow from her mug, then rested it back down on her thigh. "There is nothing in Starfleet regulations that fits this situation. And I'd be kidding myself if I thought that your people were even close to being happy about being stuck on board a Starfleet ship."

"That's putting it mildly," he said. "Most of them specifically left Starfleet to join the Maquis."

Deciding to see what he was made of, Janeway leaned forward a little and questioned, "And what about you? How do you feel about being stuck aboard my ship?"

It was a question that he hadn't expected; he had thought her to be more of the diplomatic type than a straight shooter, all evidence earlier in the day to the contrary. After taking a while to think about it, he decided to be honest. "I'm not very happy about it either."

"And I am not pleased with the prospect of supporting forty prisoners in addition to my regular compliment, with no guarantee of supplies and no support system. But I have no intention of putting you off the ship at the next convenient planet." Sitting back, the captain fixed him with a look as she contemplated him. "So what do you suggest?"

Surprised that she was even willing to hear his ideas, he faltered for just a second before he said, "Well…instead of having to take care of us, what if we could help you instead?"

She was equally surprised herself. "Go on."

Chakotay shifted in his seat a little, obviously pleased that she was going to let him suggest what he'd come here to say. "Starfleet trained or not, my crew is skilled. And I know you lost a number of people when Voyager was brought out here."

"You want to join my crew," she skeptically stated.

"Well, maybe merge is a better word." He thought for a moment. "Captain, I know that having us join your crew goes against everything you came after us for in the first place. But I, for one, am not ready to spend the rest of my life languishing in a prison cell. We can earn our keep."

The captain's expression was solid, her emotions kept carefully below the surface. "And what does your crew think of this idea?" she asked carefully.

He matched her look with a sternly set one of his own. "I'll make them like it."

A small smile crept into her features. "You haven't told them yet?"

Chakotay shook his head. "I told them I was going to speak to you. I didn't say anything about what my proposal was going to be."

Kathryn couldn't help herself and chuckled. "Well, I appreciate your candor, Captain." She set her mug down on the table in front of them. "The truth of the matter, Mister Chakotay, is that I was actually considering the same idea. In light of our circumstances, it doesn't seem practical to imprison any of you." Thinking for a minute, she considered what she needed to say carefully. "I would be willing to have your crew join mine, and integrate them into every department based on their skill set. With two conditions."

His grip tightened on his water glass. "Which are?"

Her gaze on him hardened just a little bit. There was no room for negotiation on either point. "First, this will remain a Starfleet ship and crew. I'll give your people some time to adjust, but eventually they will be expected to live up to Starfleet standards."

The Maquis leader grimaced slightly, knowing how hard a sell it was going to be. "And second?"

"I need a new first officer," she told him, seeing the surprise flicker through his eyes, though he didn't flinch. "I did consider Tuvok for the position, but in light of our situation, I need him at Tactical. You have command experience, and combined with your teaching background and your advanced tactical training, I think it makes you a good choice for balancing starship and battle operations with personnel issues."

Chakotay considered her offer carefully, mulling over his options. When it came right down to it, he didn't have any, and he knew it. "Agreed," he finally said, slowly nodding his approval.

"Good." She got up, and extended her hand to him once he was standing. "Welcome aboard, _Commander_."

He shook her hand, feeling somewhat comforted now that an agreement had been reached but still not happy with the overall picture. "I'll inform my crew of our decision, Captain."

"Report to me in my ready room when you're done. We can go through crew and housing assignments, and I'll get you up to speed on Voyager and her operating systems." He nodded and turned to leave, and she let him get a few steps toward the door before stopping him. "There is one other thing, Mister Chakotay."

Her first officer turned back to face her. "What's that, Captain?"

Now she slipped into full command mode, signaled by the practiced placing of her hands on her hips. "You and Mister Paris are going to have to figure out some way to co-exist on this ship. I am making him our new pilot, and I will not tolerate any sort of bad blood between the two of you," she told him, her voice dropping low before adding, "or between him and anybody else."

There was no mistaking her meaning, and he got the message loud and clear. "That won't be an issue," was his somber reply. "Much as I would love to slam him against a bulkhead right now, I'm afraid my life belongs to him."

The captain looked at him for a moment, again appreciating his honesty but at the same time uncomfortable with his open hostility toward her mentor's son, and confused as to what he meant. Deciding to leave it alone for the moment, she simply said, "Dismissed."

* * *

Though it took a little while, Chakotay eventually managed to find his way down to Cargo Bay Two after Janeway removed the guards that had been shadowing him. He now strode through the doors, steeled against what he knew was going to come. His crew were milling around, speaking to each other in hushed whispers and keeping wary eyes on the guards that stood just inside the doors to the corridor. They all converged on him the second the first one saw him.

"Chakotay, what's going on?" Seska snapped at him, clearly at the end of her patience.

"Just be quiet a minute and I'll tell you," he told her coldly. Her sarcastic temper was the last thing he needed to deal with now. When all eyes were on him, he announced, "Captain Janeway and I have reached an agreement. You all will be allowed to join Voyager's crew, and you will be assigned to positions that best suit your technical skills."

The howl of protest was loud and immediate. "You have _got_ to be kidding!" B'Elanna snarled, her expression one of pure hatred. "How can you agree to this?"

"Quiet!" Chakotay shouted over them. It took a minute, but they eventually fell silent again. "I don't like this any more than you do," he told them, "but we don't have a lot of choice here."

"We could take their shuttles and go off on our own," Kurt Bandera suggested, getting a murmurs of approval.

"And what?" Mike Ayala questioned, surreptitiously stepping forward to put himself between Chakotay and the others. "Their shuttles top out at warp three. How is that any better?"

"Well we can't just sit here under that woman's control!" Seska snapped.

"_That woman_…" Chakotay shot at her, "is the only reason that we're not locked in the brig right now." He could see the idea already forming in his old lover's head, and so he added, "And if anybody here even _thinks_ of taking over the ship, I'll throw you out the nearest airlock myself." He looked at each one of them, his heart constricting just a little when he saw the anger and disappointment in their eyes. "You'll be assigned quarters and duties as soon as Captain Janeway and I create the new duty roster."

"You…?" B'Elanna looked horrified. "What are you saying?"

Chakotay faced her with as much emotional shielding as he could. "I am Voyager's new first officer." Again there was a roar of discontent that he had to quell. "Hey, taking on that role means I don't spend the rest of my life locked in two metre by two metre cell, and that I actually have something to do so I don't go crazy!" He looked over to Ayala for some backup. "Mike?"

His friend thought it over long and hard, but to him the conclusion was inescapable. "I don't see that we have any choice," he said, pledging his silent support.

"Well I'll be damned if I follow you back into Starfleet," B'Elanna growled as she stormed out, followed closely by Seska and a pair of security guards. Chakotay watched them leave, but didn't follow. "You don't have to take the offer," he told his remaining crew, "but I can tell you that you won't have any freedom, and you'll most likely be locked down in quarters. You might be able to live as civilians, but Captain Janeway has made it clear that anybody on this ship has to pull their own weight, or be imprisoned. Or your other option is to leave the ship if we find someplace that is willing to take you, and spend the rest of your life here in the Delta Quadrant."

Bandera grimaced. "Doesn't leave us much options, does it?"

Chakotay shook his head. "No." He looked to each of them once again. "It's ultimately your choice, but expect each of you to give Captain Janeway the same respect that you've given me, regardless of whether you join Voyager's crew or not."

* * *

Morning came all too quickly, and Chakotay was slow in getting on the move before his first shift as Voyager's first officer. He sat at the edge of his bed as he sipped tea, something that he hadn't really done since the last time he had ever had to report for duty on a starship. The uniform that was neatly folded on the lounging chair next to the door to the living area seemed to stare back at him, taunting him. Its design was different than what he previously wore, but it still held the same connotations, the same regimentation and the same harsh memories that it had when he'd left years before.

His agreement with Captain Janeway left the decision of donning the Starfleet uniform up to each individual Maquis, but he had decided right away that he would, as his own show of good faith to her, and to set an example for his crew. He hoped that eventually they would come around to the idea of integrating themselves into one crew. He thought back to B'Elanna's reaction when he told them about the deal, and he wondered whether or not she would actually ever come around at all. The idea of seeing her talent go to waste bothered him.

But there was no more time to think about it right now. He got up and set the cup down on the dresser, thankful that it had been empty when he'd been given Commander Cavit's former quarters. His reflection looked back at him from the mirror, showing a man who was very much at a crossroads in his life. Chakotay looked back at himself, seeing someone who, despite middle age, was still in relatively good shape, and who seemed to be carrying the weight of the universe on his shoulders. It suddenly occurred to him that what had happened, while a tragedy for most of the people on board, was a gift to him. A fresh start. One that might just challenge him in ways that he hadn't been before. Here there was no opportunity to run, or to flee in anger when his ideals didn't match those of his new elder. He would have to learn patience, and how to fight for what he believed in all over again.

The uniform fit perfectly, as he'd expected it to after the computer had analyzed his clothing needs. It still smelled new, a bit of a chemical scent on the fabric from the replicator, and it was a bit stiff, but surprisingly comfortable. He felt just a little bit of hope fill him, and as he strode out into the corridor toward the turbolift, he started to feel optimistic about how the first day of his new life would unfold.


	2. 1x03 Parallax

**The Missing Scenes Series**

**Episode 1x03 - Parallax**

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: This is the missing scene after Voyager escapes the quantum singularity, when Captain Janeway breaks the news to Joe Carey.

* * *

The bridge was quiet once again as they slowly made their way away from the quantum singularity that had caused so much damage. Lieutenant Carey was annoyed at being called away from directing repairs, and now stood at the captain's ready room door, hands clasped behind his back and rocking on his feet as he waited for her to acknowledge him.

Inside, Captain Janeway sat at her desk, scrolling through the candidate names on her terminal. "Who do you recommend for the astrogation plotter position?"

"Ensign Lataine," Chakotay replied, consulting his padd. "It was his minor at the Academy, and he's the only one on board that has anything close to the requirements for the position."

She pulled up his file and quickly consulted it again. "I agree. What did he say when you spoke to him?"

Her first officer smiled. "He was very enthusiastic about it. As a matter of fact, he told me that he was going to volunteer for the job anyway."

Janeway nodded. "Very good." The door chime interrupted them. "That will be Carey. Will you inform Ensign Lataine of his new assignment?"

"Aye, Captain." Just before he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to her. "Captain, I'd like to thank you…for seriously considering my requests in this matter."

She looked at him for a few moments, remembering his blistering words to her before. She thought of what she could say, but nothing seemed appropriate right now. So she just gave him another nod of acknowledgement, and said, "Dismissed, Commander." The doors opened as he left, and she called out, "Come in, Mister Carey."

Carey waited for Chakotay to pass him before stepping into the ready room. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"I did." She indicated for him to have a seat, then laced her fingers together and set them on the desk in front of her as he settled in. A bit of nerves fluttered through her stomach, and she willed them away. "Lieutenant, I have made my decision regarding the chief engineer's position," she calmly stated. "I have decided that Lieutenant Torres will be Voyager's new chief engineer, and you will be her second in command."

A thousand thoughts went through Carey's head, but his only outward reaction was the reddening of his ears. "I see," he said slowly, his eyes flicking down to the hands that were tightly clasped together in his lap. "May I ask the reason why, Captain?"

While he'd been looking away from her, Janeway drew a small breath to steady herself. This sort of thing never got easier, and went completely against the protective instinct she had quickly developed toward this crew. "You are a fully qualified Starfleet engineer," she explained, her voice softening slightly, "one that knows the regulations and protocols inside and out. But out here, without any support, the chief engineer also has to be quick on the fly, not to mention downright inventive. Lieutenant Torres may not have the same training you have, but she is an above-board engineer, and her ability to improvise is what gave her the job."

He listened to her words, and did his best to hide his anger and disappointment. "I understand, Captain," Carey eventually said. "And I will perform my duties to the best of my ability."

"That's all I ask." Janeway gave him a slight smile, knowing exactly what was going through his head. But she didn't have time to hand-hold anybody now. "Dismissed, Lieutenant." She watched him square his shoulders before he disappeared through the door, and felt a pang of sympathy for the man. In his position, she'd have been more than just a little angry.

* * *

Joe stormed down the corridors after he left the bridge, rage growing with every step. He had been intending to go back down to Engineering, but hadn't been paying attention to where he was going and eventually found himself burning through the corridors on the lower decks. The doors to the ship's gym suddenly appeared before him, and without a thought he stepped inside. Not bothering to see if anybody was around, he strode straight over to where a heavy bag was hung and began hitting it. Without gloves it hurt his hands, but he didn't care. Single punches turned into combinations, then added kicks as the aggression and frustration grew, and eventually anguished shouts accompanied each strike. It took a while, but eventually he wore himself out, collapsing onto a nearby bench when his legs threatened to give out.

"Finished?"

He turned to see Samantha Wildman standing a short distance away, her shoulder leaning against one of the weight stacks with her arms folded across her chest as she peered at him. His ears reddened again, this time with embarrassment, knowing that his new friend had been watching him. "Yeah, I am," he muttered, resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.

Earlier in his tirade, she had picked up a towel from the small supply near the door, which she now handed to him. "What was that all about?" she asked, dropping down onto the bench next to him.

Joe gratefully took the towel, leaning forward as he used it to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. "I didn't get the chief engineer's job."

Sam sighed. In one of their last discussions, he had told her in great detail how badly he had wanted the position, hoping that the additional work would take the edge off of the misery of being torn from his family. "I'm sorry, Joe," she told him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Who got it?"

He rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor until he noticed the state of his hands. The knuckles were red and starting to swell from his hits to the heavy bag, and when he opened them, there were a few semi-circular cuts on the palms from fingernails that needed to be trimmed. "Torres."

The two of them sat together in silence for a while, each thinking about his answer. They had quickly become friends in the weeks since Voyager had been pulled into the Delta Quadrant, and she found that in the short time they'd known each other, she had started to care for him quite a bit. Sam knew that he was having even more difficulty adjusting to the loss of his family than she was, and this was only going to make his mood worse. While she didn't know B'Elanna Torres, she was rather wary of the Maquis engineer after the nose-breaking incident. But Samantha was above all a reasonable person, and since they were all going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, she fought her natural inclination to automatically side with him in that dispute. "Well, look at it this way," she eventually said. "You didn't get demoted, right? And you still get to do what you love, with none of the extra responsibility." Sam grinned a little. "Sounds like the perfect job to me."

Joe looked up to see her smiling at him, and he couldn't help but chuckle as she succeeded in breaking his mood. "Maybe you're right," he said, resting a thankful hand on her knee.

"Of course I'm right," she told him, her grin growing even brighter. "I always am." Sam started to laugh, dodging him and jumping to her feet when he flicked the towel at her. "When are you off duty?"

"Not for another four hours yet. More if…" He forced himself to say her name. "If Lieutenant Torres decides to put everybody on double shifts for repairs."

She nodded, and held her hand out to him. "Well I'm off in five. If you're not working, why don't you bring your ration pack over and join me for dinner? We could play a few hands of gin."

Joe chuckled again. "That's a hard offer to refuse." He took her hand and let her help him to his feet, then leaned in and gave her a quick, appreciative kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Sam."

"Any time." She gave him a kind smile. "You'll make it work, Joe. I have faith in you."

He fixed her with a look. "How? You hardly know me."

"Call it a hunch. You don't seem like the type to hold a grudge." Then she gave him a funny look. "At least not without sufficient provocation."

Their laughter echoed throughout the gym as they headed out into the corridor, and back to work.


	3. 1x04 Time and Again

**Episode 1x04 – Time and Again**

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: This is the missing scene at the end of Time and Again, when Tuvok needs to find out why Kes came onto the bridge.

* * *

Kes sat alone at the viewport, her face the picture of tranquil confusion. Nothing had happened. They had told her that. Even showed her the planet in its healthy glory, with no disaster in sight. She thought more and more about it, trying to decide whether or not the images she had seen of death and destruction were anything more than just that – images. Imagination. She had been so certain when she'd walked out onto the bridge. _Maybe Neelix is right,_ she wondered to herself. _Maybe it was all just a dream._

The doors hissed softly, allowing someone else into the observation lounge. She didn't turn around, expecting Neelix to be fussing over her again as he usually did after any sort of event. Kes loved the Talaxian with all her heart, but sometimes his attentions were more of an annoyance than a comfort. Today was one of those days.

"Am I interrupting you?" a baritone voice called out.

Kes turned in her seat, surprised when she saw Tuvok standing in front of the now-closed door. "No," she said softly, her expression warming into a small smile. "Come in."

The security chief walked in and took a seat on the couch next to her. "I was…concerned…at your behavior on the bridge today," he told her, his dispassionate voice filling the small room.

She settled back into the cushions behind her, nodding. "I am too. I've never had anything like that happen before."

One of his eyebrows lifted. "Can you tell me about your experience?"

The reason Kes had come to this observation lounge was to try and put what she had seen into words to explain what happened. But she was no closer to an answer now than she was when she'd arrived. "I'm not quite sure," she told him, her gaze drifting back out to the stars that streaked by. "I was alone in my quarters, reading through the Starfleet operations manual that you gave me, when I suddenly found myself standing amongst a group of people I had never seen before. They were just going about their daily business – working, shopping…the children were playing together in a courtyard." She paused, shuddering when the sensation that had driven her to the bridge returned. "I was only there for a few seconds before there was a huge explosion. It didn't touch me, but it burned up everyone around me."

"And afterward?" he prompted when she went quiet again.

"They were all gone…All that was left was ashes where they'd stood," she finally told him, her jaw set firmly to try and fend off the emotional shakeup that was threatening her again. "Neelix thinks it's a dream, but I'm sure it was more than that. It was more like…like a memory."

Tuvok nodded solemnly. "There are certainly instances where our dreams appear to be as real as our experiences in the waking world. It is not unusual for humanoids to awake with confusion about their location as they move from a dream scenario to a real one. It is also entirely possible that your experience is exactly how you say it was – a memory – and that this was some sort of telepathic contact." He looked over at her, seeing that although she was still looking out to the stars, she was listening to him with rapt attention. "I was not aware that the Ocampa are a telepathic species."

"We're not," the young woman said with a shake of her head, "but it is said that our ancestors had unusual mental abilities."

"Curious."

Kes finally turned and looked at her companion. "What do you think it is, Tuvok?"

The Vulcan thought for a moment. "While I can only speculate, it appears that perhaps there may possibly be a force on Ocampa that suppresses the mental abilities you mention. However, without any other Ocampa on board to compare to, it may have simply been a coincidence. If I may make a suggestion…" At her nod, he continued. "I cannot say with any certainty what caused this experience, but I believe it to be of some significance. Should another incident of this type occur, I would be pleased to offer my services as a guide to you, should you wish to explore it."

"Really?" She was puzzled at the sudden offer from a man who she really hadn't interacted with very much since boarding Voyager a few weeks before. "Why?"

"Any sort of telepathic ability requires substantial mental discipline in order to control it," he advised, knowing he was walking the fine line between sharing his knowledge and the 'preaching' that emotion-based humanoids could sometimes take his intentions for. Tuvok could tell from her expression though that she was carefully listening to him. "Since there is no other telepath on this ship that has spent more years in study than I have, it is logical that, should you require guidance, I be the one to give it to you."

She considered his offer, finding that her curiosity more than outweighed any trepidation she might have on the subject, or any apprehension of the man who sat with her now. "I appreciate the offer, Tuvok. Thank you." She got up to leave, but turned to him before she could move. "I also appreciate your concern," she added, her smile reappearing. "I'll let you know if anything like it happens again." He simply gave her a single nod of his head, and then she left, feeling more informed, but not necessarily any better than she had been when she'd sat down.

Tuvok remained in his seat a few moments longer, reviewing their conversation. Her sudden, agitated arrival on the bridge earlier that day had surprised him – Kes usually possessed a calm that rivaled a Vulcan's, albeit fully emotional. When he'd said he was concerned at her behavior, he had meant only the unexpected arrival. But when she used his inquiry to discuss the images she had seen, Tuvok realized that there was more to the young alien than there first appeared. He felt confident in the offer he had given her, and as he now got up to go back to his quarters, he somehow knew that she would inevitably be doing exactly what she had promised the next time a vision came to her.


	4. 1x05 Phage

The Voyager Missing Scene Series

Episode 1x05 – Phage

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: This is the missing scene toward the end of Phage, between when the Vidiians propose to help transplant one of Kes' lungs and when the Doctor speaks to her about becoming his assistant.

* * *

The Doctor sat behind his desk, reading through information and transferring his tricorder readings over into Neelix and Kes' medical files. Being a part of the ship, he could just very easily have assimilated all of the readings and notes in the blink of his holographic eye, but he had discovered that there was a certain amount of comfort to be drawn from 'going through the motions', as Mister Paris would say.

He was finding that the longer he was activated, the more he actually found himself thinking about his situation. He was a Mark I, one of countless installed on other starships, designed by a grumpy old genius that preferred solitude on Jupiter Station to interacting with people. The Doctor's personality subroutines couldn't help but notice the irony of it – a physician needed to have a certain amount of empathy and compassion, and while he had been programmed with them, they certainly did not come to him easily.

His eyes drifted up through the window and into the ward where his patients had been sleeping peacefully in the hours since the Vidiians' departure. Having to care for Neelix's ego, as well as his body, had certainly been a test for his bedside manner – a failed test, in retrospect. Trying to talk the Talaxian down from his panic attack had stretched his abilities, and had shown the Doctor just how badly he lacked patience when things got tough. The sedative-loaded hypospray had appeared in his hand nearly by magic, a quick answer to his patient's anxiety. But the Doctor was very unhappy that he had reacted that way – somehow, he knew he was better than that.

The sound of the doors from the corridor caught his attention, and he got up to greet the captain as she strode into the ward. "Report," she said quietly, not wanting to disturb his patients.

"Kes and Neelix are both resting comfortably," he told her, "and are well on their way to a full recovery. I cannot say how, but the Vidiians were able to alter the donated lung precisely to match Neelix's DNA structure. I see absolutely no signs of rejection."

She sighed, her gaze falling on her two newest crew members. "Will she suffer any ill effects?"

"A little shortness of breath, but it will be temporary," he said flatly. "I cannot see any significant delay in her returning to duty." A thought suddenly struck him – a new sensation in and of itself. "Captain, what exactly is Kes' position on the ship?"

The captain turned to look at him, her expression a little skeptical. "She's in charge of the hydroponics bay and will oversee our fresh food supplies once they've grown enough to consume." She fixed him with a look. "Why do you ask, Doctor?"

The hologram looked at the powerful woman before him, wondering if she would at all understand him. "I was hoping that perhaps…perhaps you would consider reassigning Kes to duties here in Sickbay."

She could feel her eyebrow quirk. Kathryn Janeway hadn't spent a whole lot of time in Sickbay since arriving in the Delta Quadrant, and she didn't realize that the terse, cranky hologram that usually greeted her whenever she was there had been considering things so carefully. "What did you have in mind?" she asked him.

"I would like to train Kes to become my assistant," he explained, with a little apprehension. "She seems to have a natural empathy for people, and to put them at ease."

The captain wanted to ask him what the cause of this new revelation was, but held her thought for the moment. "The crew does seem to have taken to her rather quickly."

"It's not just that, Captain." He started to pace in a small circle in front of her, an arm crossed over his chest as the backs of his fingers pressed against his mouth in thought. "I don't need to tell you that it won't be long before our lack of a counselor on board the ship becomes an issue. The crew needs somebody that they can confide in, who isn't part of their command structure. Or…that they can be sure isn't going to go running off and blabbing to his friends about what they said in confidence."

Mentally she shook her head, knowing that the Doctor was really not thrilled with having Tom Paris for a medic. "I agree," she said, breaking his train of thought before he could go any further.

He stopped suddenly, surprise clear on his face. "You do?"

"There are some things that a person just needs help to work through." Kathryn gave him a small smile of understanding. "Flesh and blood and hologram alike." She had no doubt, after the small amount of time she had spent with Kes, that the young woman would be a profound influence on their medical hologram as well. She had a better chance than anyone of smoothing out the Doctor's rough edges. "Permission granted, Doctor. Proceed as soon as you feel Kes is well enough to start."

The Doctor seemed a bit stunned – he had been sure that she would turn him down. "Thank you, Captain." He watched the captain turn on her heel and leave, a smile on his face as he headed back into his office. As he sat down at the console and started assembling a training schedule, something told him that Kes would jump at the chance to train with him. He was looking forward to telling her the good news.


	5. 1x06 The Cloud

**The Voyager Missing Scenes Series**

**Episode 1x06 – The Cloud**

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: These are the missing scenes at the end of the episode, after the captain appears unannounced at Sandrine's.

* * *

The roar of laughter that surrounded the captain after her announcement of, "Solids," was nearly deafening. From around the corner of the table, Torres was laughing more at Paris' raised eyebrows, wondering if they would ever come back down again. _Serves him right, the p'takh,_ she thought to herself, warily eyeing the pool shark that she had called a pig earlier. Paris deserved to be put in his place for creating losers like that.

Harry momentarily found himself in shock from Sandrine's kiss, and the fire of blush on his cheeks quickly followed. _Libby's going to be mad…_ his heart screamed at him about two seconds before his brain kicked in with the truth. He sighed, then awkwardly extricated himself from the barkeep's arms before she could make any more moves on him.

Chakotay couldn't help but chuckle as he watched his captain continue to clear the table, sinking ball after ball without giving Paris the slightest chance of getting even. Part of him felt a smug satisfaction as he watched her clean his irritant's clock, but yet another part of him was starting to be fascinated by this woman. _And not a bad actress…_ He'd believed her naïve questions about how to play pool hook, line and sinker, especially after seeing her more open side when he was teaching her how to contact her animal guide. He resolved to keep a better eye on her.

Paris stood watching his opponent move closer to victory, making even Gaunt Gary look like an amateur. "You know, you could at least give me a chance, Captain," he moaned, his hands resting on the outer edge of the table as he hung his head.

Kathryn had considered showing him some mercy, perhaps giving her crew a demonstration of her magnanimous nature by letting him off the hook. That was, until she felt the gigolo's hot hand suddenly coming to rest on her backside. To her credit she didn't flinch, but decided it was time to show off something else. With a glare that would melt steel, she fired Voyager's introductory death glare at the hologram who, to Paris' continued good health, had the sense to back off and keep his hands to himself. Turning back to the table, she set up the shot, and then zeroed her gaze in on the pilot when she declared, "Eight ball in the side pocket." The black ball fell into the pocket, and Tom Paris' ego fell into his shoes. A spontaneous round of applause broke out, and the captain chuckled and clapped Paris on the shoulder as she handed her cue off to Crewman Elliott, who had been waiting for his turn when she came in. He nodded and gave her a smile, silently telling her that he didn't mind the interruption, especially considering that he would have been up against the pilot next.

She walked over to Tuvok, who was watching as Elliott racked the balls for the next game. "I'm surprised to see you here, Tuvok," she commented. "Since when do you play pool?"

"I have been playing pool for the past seventy-two years," he informed her calmly. "Recreationally, of course."

"Of course," she repeated, in that way that she knew irritated him just a little bit. "I'm glad to see you here interacting with the crew."

"As I am of you, Captain." The Vulcan remained impassive when she quirked an eyebrow at him. She hadn't said anything to him about her current misgivings on the subject, but he'd been able to see her puzzling over it.

"Well done, ma capitaine!" Sandrine cooed as she slinked her way in between them. "May I get you a drink, madame requin?"

"A glass of Chateau Picard sauvignon blanc. The 2365, if you have it." She watched the barkeep move off to get her drink, then started to work her way around the room, making small talk with the various crewmen that were chatting together in groups around the bar. There was a certain amount of nervousness that was unmistakable, and she knew exactly why. Those that were Starfleet were completely unaccustomed to direct face time with their captain unless they had screwed up royally. And the Maquis were still coming to terms with her now being their captain instead of Chakotay. It was a fine line she was walking, and she could be blown off it and fall to her death with just the slightest of gusts.

Kathryn's trip eventually brought her to the bar, where she took a seat amongst the row of empty stools that had been put at it tonight. Sandrine came around and handed her a glass, but thankfully left her alone to go tease Harry Kim a little more. The wine was the 2365 that she had requested, and the taste took Kathryn back to the first real date that she and Mark had ever been on, at a quiet little café not far from where they both grew up. The memory saddened her for a moment before she shook it off, focusing instead on watching the room around her.

"It's good to see you here, Captain."

She turned to find Chakotay now standing next to her, still holding onto his cue as he reached behind her to retrieve the stein of beer that he had been working on before her arrival. "Ensign Kim invited me," she replied, taking another sip of her wine. "I guess he figured that maybe I needed some down time too."

"I'm glad he did," he said after swallowing the last of his drink. "It's good for the crew to see you out and about." He grew uncomfortable under the steady gaze that she now leveled at him, and felt the need to add, "I mean – it's a good chance for them to get to know you. Some of the crew haven't even met you yet."

Her lips lifted into a smile, and he was off the hook. "Normally I wouldn't give that a second thought, but under the current circumstances, you're absolutely right." They fell into a comfortable silence, each watching as the crew around them continued to visit, some even tentatively beginning to mix with one another. Each of them was hesitantly optimistic that perhaps there was hope for them becoming a unit after all.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me find my animal guide this afternoon," she said quietly so she wouldn't be overheard.

He nodded. "I'm just sorry it got cut short," he told her, matching her tone. "Are you going to try again?"

She contemplated it while she drank the last of her wine. "I think so," she eventually said. "It was a fascinating experience." After turning to set the empty glass on the bar behind her, she hopped down off of the barstool and gave him a warm smile. "Well, I've got a few things I need to get done before I turn in. I'll see you in the morning, Commander."

Chakotay returned her smile, for a moment finally feeling at ease with her. "Goodnight, Captain."

* * *

When the captain returned to her quarters, she was definitely feeling more relaxed than she had been when she ran into Harry Kim in the turbolift. She stood before the viewports and rolled her head to stretch her neck and shoulders when she noticed something sitting in the bay of her replicator. Her curiosity piqued, Kathryn walked over and found an akoonah waiting there, sitting next to a padd. "What the…?" She picked up the akoonah and examined it, seeing that it was free of any scratches or wear marks of any sort. It was brand new. Still holding it, she picked up the padd and activated it. It had a simple message waiting for her:

_I thought this might help you get started._

_Chakotay_

She didn't even realize she was smiling as she carried both items over to the couch, where she carefully set them onto the coffee table. Kathryn did not have a stone or a blackbird's wing, so she looked around her quarters for something that might suffice. Again she cursed her lack of personal effects, but eventually decided on a leaf from the small plant that her mother had given her before Voyager had departed Utopia Planetia. Setting it down next to the akoonah, she settled down onto the floor and crossed her legs, taking a few moments to get comfortable. Her hand hovered above its dimpled surface, a stray memory flitting through her mind of the feel of Chakotay's hand picking hers up and putting it on the device. But after taking a deep breath and steadying herself, she closed her eyes and laid her fingers down upon it, then concentrated on the patterns of veins in the green leaf.

A rush of warmth filled her body, her previous concerns already melting away as she began to recite the words she'd learned that day. "A-koo-chee-moya…we are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers and from the bones of our people, but perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this good crew, and give them the answer they seek…" It only took seconds for the ocean beach to slowly appear before her, a soft wind rippling the tendrils of hair that had escaped from her upsweep. She basked in the embrace of the sun, the gentle crashes of the waves soothing her instantly. _I could just stay here…_

Looking to her left, she once again found the tiny green lizard, now curled up on top of the log it had been climbing along the last time she saw it. She leaned down to its level, wondering just what she should say. Eventually she decided that just being herself was probably the best way to start. "Hello there. My name is Kathryn."

While the lizard only looked at her and didn't move, its voice surrounded her when it spoke. _I am happy to see you, Kathryn. I have been waiting for you._

She pulled back a little in surprise. "You have?"

_I have been watching you for many years,_ the feathery female voice told her. _Just because you have only discovered me now doesn't mean that I haven't been with you all along._

Kathryn could feel herself blush, and her eyes fell to the sand below with her sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I think very linearly sometimes."

A little pink tongue flicked out, tasting the air between them. _What brings you here, Kathryn?_

Inside, Kathryn was feeling rather silly. After all, this wasn't exactly the same as if she'd been talking to her dog. But she screwed up her courage, and forced herself to speak. "Chakotay tells me that you can perhaps answer questions that I may have. That I could…seek your council when I need it."

_Chakotay is right. I can see that which you cannot, make you understand that which confuses you. And I know, Kathryn, that there is one question on your mind above all others._

She nodded. "There is." Then she drew a breath to steady herself, finding that putting that ever-present question into words was much harder than she ever would have thought. "I need to know…is this ship ever going to get home?" After a moment, she amended it. "Am _I_ ever going to see my mother again? My fiancé?"

The time that it took the answer to come seemed like much longer than seventy-five years. _You have a long journey to make, Kathryn, one that will show you things about the universe – and about yourself – that you never thought possible. The day will come when you see Earth again, but it won't be the same Earth that you recently left. You must prepare yourself for that._

"But what does that mean?" Kathryn countered, irritation rising in her at her guide's non-answer. "I don't understand."

The lizard remained infuriatingly still, its flicking tongue the only sign of life. _You must meditate on this, my child. To prepare yourself for the journey._ And before anything else could be said, the little lizard rose to its feet, and made its way down to the sand and into the tall grass that grew behind the log.

Kathryn watched her go, wanting desperately to grab the small creature and shake her until she got a direct answer. But she knew it would do no good. With a frustrated sigh she closed her eyes again, and this time when she opened them, she was back in her quarters on Voyager. It startled her, and she frowned as she lifted her hand from the akoonah. "So much for making me understand…" she muttered to herself, less than satisfied with the experience. Getting up onto her feet and heading into the bedroom, she resolved to ask Chakotay about her guide's elusive nature.

When she laid her head on the pillow, Kathryn tried to clear her mind and drift off. But the words from the little lizard wouldn't go away. _You have a long journey to make, Kathryn, one that will show you things about the universe – and about yourself – that you never imagined possible._ In the hours that it took before she finally fell asleep, she couldn't help but think about those words, and what could possibly happen to her – and to all of them – in the days and weeks – _and years_, she forced herself to include, to come.


	6. 1x07 Eye of the Needle

The Voyager Missing Scene Series

Episode 1x07 – Eye of the Needle

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: This is the missing scene at the end of the episode, after Tuvok reveals that Telek R'Mor passed away in 2367.

* * *

Tom Paris was starting to wind down his shift when the captain and Tuvok returned to the bridge. He turned to make a light remark, but it died on his lips when he took saw them. The security chief was his usual, implacable self, but Janeway had the distinct look of someone who was fighting hard to keep her emotions in check. Tom glanced over at Chakotay, thinking maybe he knew what was going on, but he didn't seem to be any more enlightened than the pilot.

Without a word, Paris turned back to his console, looking over all the information that he would need to impart to Ensign Baytart when he showed up to relieve him. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he saw a text-only message from B'Elanna Torres marked 'Tonight' in the subject line. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it and read her single line: _Sandrine's would be a good idea tonight._

Puzzled over her cryptic message and wondering why she felt it important enough to actually contact him, Tom was startled when Pablo Baytart came up behind him and asked, "Anything I should know?"

Quickly smoothing over his surprise, he turned to face his replacement. "We're back on course for the Alpha Quadrant. No sign of any upcoming systems or anomalies to be steered around." Getting onto his feet, he stepped aside as Baytart sat down. "Keep an eye on the aft thrusters on the port side. They've been having intermittent issues with the power input, but Engineering's been sort of sidetracked the last few days, so just let them know if you see any power fluctuations."

Checking his readouts, the ensign nodded his acknowledgement. "I'll do that. Have a good night, Tom."

* * *

As B'Elanna had requested, Tom started up the Sandrine's program after dinner, and there were quite a few people who came for a drink and some downtime. Harry was conspicuously absent from the mess hall, and as they racked up for another game of pool, B'Elanna told Tom about what had happened in the transporter room. Shaking his head, he knew that his friend would be taking it hard, but figured that he would eventually turn up. But by midnight, it was obvious Harry was in hiding.

On his way to his quarters, Tom stopped at Harry's door and rang the chime a few times, but never got an answer. Eventually, Tom called to him through the door, "Harry, I know you're in there."

After a few moments, the doors slid open to admit him. The room was dark, the only light on coming from a fixture imbedded in the bulkhead above the couch. Harry, however, was seated in an armchair just outside the illuminated area, still in uniform and decidedly unhappy. "Why didn't you show up tonight?" Tom asked him as he stepped around in front of him.

"For what?" Kim asked in a tired voice.

"Sandrine's. B'Elanna thought it would be a good idea to pick up everybody's spirits." Seeing that Harry wasn't really listening to him, Tom folded his arms across his chest and added, "Ensign Ballard was looking for you." When mention of Harry's academy crush didn't get its intended reaction, Tom frowned deeply. "Harry?"

Harry suddenly looked at him, his entire body reflecting defeat. "Huh?"

"You alright?"

"I'm fine," he answered a little too quickly. Tom's unflinching gaze unnerved him before long. "It's my fault."

It was the last response that Paris had expected. "What's your fault?"

"That people needed cheering up."

Tom was rather taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"That stupid wormhole!" Harry leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he absently pulled at his fingers. "I wish I'd never found it."

"Harry, nobody's blaming you…"

"I should have known from the phase variance issues!" Harry slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair as he angrily jumped to his feet. Tom watched him pace from one end of the room to the other, but didn't say anything. Guilt was radiating off him, and he needed to let this out. "I got everybody's hopes up! I'm the one that found that wormhole! And every time it looked like something wouldn't work, I had to come up with a solution. Then somebody else comes up with an idea, and I run with it. All I wanted was to get us home. And all I did was make them miserable!"

"Them? Or you?"

Harry whirled around to stare at him, his jaw dropping. "What do you mean?"

"I know how bad you want to get home," Tom explained as he sank into the chair his friend had abandoned. "And this looked like the perfect way, but it didn't work. And now, you're punishing yourself rather than dealing with your disappointment."

"You don't understand," Harry countered. "This would have let my folks know that I'm okay. They think I'm dead!"

"It's only been a few weeks. Right now, we're just late getting back from the Badlands."

Harry started pacing again, shaking his head. "No, I know my mother. She'll know something has happened." He paused when he reached the far end of the room, then turned to lean against the wall, whatever fight he had slipping away when he thought of her. "I can't imagine what they're going through right now." There was a hitch in his voice that stopped him for a moment before he murmured, "God, I miss them."

Despite his usually callous nature, Paris couldn't help but feel for the younger man. It also gave him a pang of jealousy – he'd been estranged from his family for so long that he didn't have that kind of attachment to them. A small part of him, despite all the anger and hurt in him, wished that he could. "I know you do."

They were silent for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry eventually broke it when he wondered, "Do you think we'll ever get home?"

Tom drew a heavy sigh. "I don't know." He then decided to try and cheer his friend up. "But I do know someone that will never quit trying."

Harry smiled just a little. "Captain Janeway."

"No, Harry. You."

Eyes that had been cast down on the floor suddenly snapped up in surprise. "Me?"

"You found the wormhole," Paris explained. "You figured out that R'Mor was scanning us from the other side. You, more than anybody, were willing to abandon the ship here and transport twenty years into the past just to get home." He couldn't help but grin. "If anybody can figure out a way to get us back, you can." Tom could see that he'd gotten through to him, so he got up and clapped a hand on Kim's shoulder. "Come on. Let me buy you a drink."

Harry considered it for a moment. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

As they started to head out into the corridor to go back to the holodeck, Tom told him, "You know, if word of this ever gets back to Earth, you and B'Elanna should be nominated for a Dyson Fellowship."

"For what?"

Tom chuckled. "For beaming a Romulan here all the way from the Alpha Quadrant. That's no small feat, you know."

Harry shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "We were just doing our jobs."

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" Tom chided, clapping his friend on the shoulder once again as they stepped into the turbolift. "You've got a lot to learn about taking credit for your work." And for the next couple of hours, in his own way, Tom served as Harry Kim's counselor, helping him to find a way past his disappointment and back to the hopeful, eager young ensign they'd all come to value, while at the same time helping him start to accept that they might, in fact, never make it home.


	7. 1x08 Ex Posto Facto

**Episode 1x08 – Ex Posto Facto**  
By Eydie Munroe

Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to Paramount and CBS. I'm just writing the bits that TPTB seemed to have missed.

Note: These are the missing scenes at the beginning of the episode, when things turn significantly badly for Tom Paris.

* * *

Tom's head was screaming at him before he even realized he was conscious. Pain rippled along each muscle that ran around his skull before it would try and jump across the gap in between for good measure. He wondered when he'd found the time to earn such a hangover; between his piloting duties, chasing the Delaney sisters and unofficial mentoring of Harry Kim, it wasn't like he had a lot of time left over to hit the bottle.

As he slowly marched toward consciousness, his thought process changed. This was reminiscent of drinking binges he'd indulged in before being sentenced to New Zealand. He sighed. Being lost in the Delta Quadrant had certainly been better than incarceration. But now it appeared that it was just a dream, and he was still the falling-down drunk who hustled strangers for drinks at Sandrine's. _Damn…_

He'd have liked nothing better than to just fall back into oblivion, but his brain had other ideas. The volume of his groan made his head pound even more, and he threw his forearm up over his eyes as light started to register in them. It took a while, but eventually he adjusted enough that he could open them behind his sleeve, and then eventually uncover them completely.

Grey. Why did it always have to be grey? It was an irony that he had almost laughed at every time he found himself inside a cell. No matter the organization, no matter where, confinement cells somehow always managed to be painted in shades of soul-sucking grey. Once that realization hit him, Tom groaned again, his arm falling back over his eyes. He was back in jail. But he couldn't remember what he'd done to earn the trip.

Eventually he felt strong enough to move, and slowly sat up on the narrow bunk that had been attached to the wall. The room didn't seem like his usual cell, but in light of the pain in his head, it was entirely possible that he was in a medical wing that he hadn't had the pleasure of visiting yet. When his vision finally cleared, he was surprised to find himself wearing a black uniform with red shoulders instead of the bland grey jumpsuit that had been designed to match the walls.

_Wait…black uniform…?_

It suddenly dawned on him. His current incarceration wasn't the result of some prison yard attack; he wasn't still on Earth, far too close to his ogre of a father for his liking. He was in the Delta Quadrant, a reinstated pilot who was slowly moving beyond the necessity of looking over his shoulder for possible attacks from disgruntled Maquis to looking forward to building a life and using the second chance that Captain Janeway had given him.

_Janeway._ The second her imposing image appeared in his thoughts, the events of the past couple of days fell into place. Banea. Tolen Ren. Lidell. Running through the rain. Kissing her. Drinking tea. Solar eclipses…

_Shit!_

His head fell into his hands as memories continued to come back to him. Bored with all the technobabble running between Harry and Tolen Ren as they worked together to fix Voyager's navigational array issues, Tom had wandered off and found the physicist's wife slowly killing herself out on the balcony. A noir femme fatale if he'd ever seen one. In retrospect, it would have been best to walk away from her. But the head that contained his brain hadn't necessarily been in charge of thinking that night.

"You're awake."

He snapped around at the strange voice, instantly regretting it when he felt another stab of pain through his head. A Banean who he'd never seen before stood on the other side of a clear partition in the wall, flanked by what were obviously guards. "Where am I?" Tom asked as he managed to turn sideways and put his feet down on the floor.

"You are in the Capital Region Incarceration Centre," the stern older man replied, his deep frown lines mostly hidden by the purple and grey spotted feathers that mixed into his white hair. "I'm afraid, Mister Paris, that you are under arrest."

Tom huffed a laugh. He'd figured out that much. "For what?"

"For the murder of Tolen Ren."

The pain in his head was instantly drowned out by a rush of adrenaline, and he jumped to his feet. "What?"

The other man, who was obviously the warden of this institution, took an information pad that one of the guards was handing him. "Don't act so surprised, Mister Paris," he chided. "You already know the truth."

"All I know is that the last time I saw Tolen Ren, he was alive!" Tom protested.

His jailer chuckled. "Well…he's not anymore." After handing the pad back to the guard, he then reached over to touch a panel embedded in the wall beside the window. "Minister, Prisoner Paris has regained consciousness."

Tom couldn't hear the response, but ran to the window anyway. "Wait – get Harry Kim. He can tell you – I didn't do this! I didn't kill Professor Ren!"

Ignoring his prisoner for the moment, the warden was still speaking with the minister. "Yes, that's who he said." He listened a few moments more, then concluded with, "Understood, Minister." Drawing his hand back from the wall, he addressed Paris again. "I'm afraid that Ensign Kim is no longer on Banea."

Paris felt a stone drop in his gut. He was responsible for Harry's safety. "What do you mean? Where is he?"

"Ensign Kim...decided to leave Banea and return to your ship three days ago."

"Decided?" Paris tossed at him. "Or was convinced to?"

The other man smiled. "What does it matter now? You're as good as convicted."

* * *

Paris felt like his brain was about to explode. Within the space of about six hours he had been formally charged, processed, and now was sitting at his own murder trial. Lidell Ren sat directly opposite him, valiantly playing the grieving widow as she laid out details of a final encounter that supposedly happened, but that he couldn't remember. "Yes, we were kissing out in the atrium," she replied to the prosecutor's question. "My husband surprised us, and while I had already told him that our marriage was over, Tolen threatened to report what had happened to Voyager's captain." She wiped at the tears that ran down her face. "That's when Tom stabbed him with the knife."

He wanted to scream. He'd been cut off from the courtroom, sitting in a soundproof booth that wouldn't allow him to interrupt her, but that allowed him to hear her false testimony perfectly. _"You are here more or less as a formality,"_ his advocate had told him just before they'd locked him inside. _"In cases such as these, there is almost no chance of acquittal."_ That statement had already made him want to punch the man, but despite the dire circumstances he now faced, Tom couldn't help but think that lawyers were also similar the galaxy over. What he couldn't understand was why his defender seemed to give up so easily.

That was, until the robot was brought in.

It was an artificial life form, he knew, but it still looked like a robot. Gangly and barely coordinated, the mechanized form was rolled in and connected by one of the court's guards, who then bowed slightly to the judges before withdrawing to her usual spot on the other side of the room. Still sitting in the witness stand, Lidell took the handkerchief that the prosecutor offered her, then turned to watch a screen that appeared in the wall next to the judging panel. Tom had missed whatever had been said, his attention drawn as soon as he saw the images that started to appear there.

"These are the final moments of Professor Tolen Ren's life," the prosecutor stated loudly. "It will confirm Mrs. Ren's testimony."

Tom watched in horror as he saw himself kissing Lidell, the pair looking for all intents like the opening moments of a pornographic vid. "What the hell…?" Then he heard the professor's voice, and saw his would-be self not even bother to be ashamed of being caught in a compromising position. Tom banged against the glass, trying to get his advocate's attention. "There's something wrong!" he shouted. "That never happened!" But the defense lawyer merely glanced at him before turning his attention back to the screen. By the time that Tom did the same, his screen self was throwing a protesting Lidell off his arm and grabbing the knife. "No!" he shouted. But his voice disappeared as he watched himself mercilessly stab the professor from his own point of view, concluded by his own smug, absolutely evil expression as he watched a dying man drop to the floor.

The court was silent as they watched the professor's view, save for Lidell's soft weeping. The video screen switched off, but it was eventually the prosecutor who simply stated, "This is our testimony, Magistrates."

While the five members of the judging panel put their heads together, Paris still gaped at the now deactivated screen. _I couldn't have done this,_ he reminded himself, though in light of the evidence, it was damned hard to convince his own eyes that his version of events was true. _She's lying. She has to be. I don't remember kissing her like that! At least, not in the atrium…_ His head fell into his hands as he tried to take in everything. _Fuck…_

Within mere minutes, the head magistrate began to speak, prompting Paris to look up. "The Banean government prides itself on being efficient and thorough in its investigations. In cases such as these, the memory engrams of the victim provide all the proof that is needed. It is therefore the ruling of this panel that Thomas Eugene Paris, of the starship Voyager, is hereby convicted of the murder of Professor Tolen Ren, with sentence to be carried out upon leaving this establishment." He looked pointedly at the now-convicted killer. "May the fates have mercy on you, sir."

Tom was unceremoniously dragged out of his booth by the guards, so quickly that he was unable to even protest his innocence. Guiding him into a transport parked outside the doors, he was shackled and locked into the prisoner's compartment, left to stew as they travelled through the city. He sat there, his head spinning, trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened to him. He was no saint to be sure, but he knew in his heart that he wasn't capable of killing another man in cold blood. Battle was one thing, but while he may have gotten into a fight or two over a woman in his day, he had always felt bowing out was preferable to continuing to fight a spurned lover. No woman had ever been worth his neck.

_What are they going to do to me?_ he wondered, twisting his wrists inside the shackles. Things had happened so fast, and he had been given so little information, that he honestly had no idea what his sentence from these people was going to be. _Jail?_ That, he knew he could handle. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

His thoughts stopped cold though, when he realized that he could very well end up dead. They had no information on the Baneans, really, other than the small tidbits that Neelix had been able to provide. While it had been helpful, it certainly hadn't been all-encompassing. Without Harry here, he didn't even have a comrade that he could send out to get the information he needed. And nobody around him was bothering to listen, or tell him anything he needed to know.

He didn't want to die, and realized that that in itself was a revelation. Ever since Caldik Prime, he hadn't much cared what happened to him – after killing those three officers, Tom never felt like he deserved to care. As long as the booze kept flowing and the women kept putting out, he didn't need much else. But as they now rode toward his sentencing, Tom began to realize just how much he had already changed from that callous young man, and how he really didn't want to give up his new life without a fight.

He just hoped that Harry had been able to get back to Voyager alive.

* * *

The transport stopped with a jerk, and it didn't take long before the guards were hauling him to another processing centre within the building. "Where are we going?" Tom tried, barely able to keep up with them.

"Be quiet!" the taller of the two snapped at him. She steered them down the next left into a large central area that was rimmed by individual rooms, then unceremoniously dumped him down onto a low couch in the middle of it. "Stay with him," was her order to her subordinate. "The doctor will be here shortly."

"Doctor?" A sudden knot of fear tightened in Tom's chest. "What doctor?" She ignored him and walked away, heading over to speak with the attendant that obviously ran the place. Tom looked at the remaining guard and tried again. "What doctor?" But with this one as well, he only received the stony face that he had seen in so many guards before.

He didn't have to wait long. The Banean doctor, dressed in a light brown suit and with dusky orange covering most of his head, appeared at the attendant's desk, then joined the head guard as she escorted him over to the newest prisoner. "Prisoner Paris," he stated formally, hands joined at the waist and fingers steepled, "you will accompany me."

Tom stood to face him. "To where?"

The doctor fixed him with a stern look. "To carry out your sentence, of course."

Panic started to well in him, and his Starfleet training was about the only thing that kept Paris from losing his temper completely. "And what exactly is that sentence?"

The other man gave him what looked like a satisfied grin. "You know exactly what your sentence is." Then he addressed the head guard as he started to turn away. "Bring him."

"No, I don't know what my sentence is!" Tom said loudly, thinking that creating a scene might buy him some time to find out what was happening. "Nobody has told me hardly anything since I woke up this morning. I want to know what's going on!"

The physician turned back to face him, all attempts at patience long gone. "Prisoner Paris! When you arrived at Banea, you were counseled by our immigration agents that you would be accountable for your conduct while on our world, did you not?"

"Yes, but–"

"And in doing so, did you not agree that should you break the law, you would abide by any sentencing decision made by the magistrates in regard to your punishment?"

"I did, but I didn't–"

"And were you not given a roster of laws to study before you were introduced to Doctor Ren?"

Tom groaned inwardly. The immigration agents had given them a lengthy dossier of dos and don'ts to follow during their time on Banea, a requirement for Tom to be permitted to interact in light of his criminal history, which he had been required to disclose as part of the arrivals process. He'd skimmed over it, intending to go back and read it in greater detail later on, but he'd never gotten around to it. "Yes."

The Banean doctor couldn't help the satisfied smile that crept into his expression. "Then you know, Prisoner Paris, what your sentence is for murder." He turned away again, nodding to the guards to bring him.

This time when the guards tried to push him forward, he fought back. "I didn't kill Doctor Ren!" Tom struggled against them, but was quickly incapacitated when three more guards jumped in, clamping down on his flailing legs and leading the way as they carried him into a nearby treatment room. "I didn't do this!" he protested, continuing to struggle as they restrained him down on the operating couch. "There's been a mistake!"

"There is no mistake, Mister Paris," the Banean doctor reminded him, watching as his assistant moved his equipment into position. "Your own actions convicted you. Now it is time for your sentence to be carried out."

"But I didn't…" Something wet touched his hairline, and Tom could feel his body calming despite his desperate need to keep fighting. "I didn't…" He swallowed hard, feeling a bead of moisture slowly crawling down his forehead. "What the…"

"It's just a topical anti-stimulant," the assistant told his patient, his manner much kinder than the doctor who was running the show. "You must remain awake for this procedure."

Despite the fact that his body felt as relaxed as if he'd been in a hammock on vacation, his vision and awareness were fully intact. He noticed another attendant come over carrying an instrument tray, and heard rustling behind him as they got to work, while the guard that had remained in the room now removed his handcuffs and restraints. Waiting for something – anything – to happen was excruciating, anticipation driving his mind crazy. _Oh my god – they're gonna kill me! _Tom could see that the doctor was now sitting on the chair opposite him. "I didn't do it," he tried once more. But any further attempts were culled when fingers of fire seemed to reach into the centre of his brain. "Stop it!"

Then he went abruptly silent.

Strange black and white images suddenly floated before his eyes, like the old B movies that he'd discovered as a young teenager. He was walking along a garden path at a fast pace, approaching an opening in the building's outer walls that he vaguely recognized. He was finding it hard to breathe, his heart pounding in his chest as the images continued to the entrance, then looked down.

"What do you see, Mister Paris?" the doctor questioned.

"Shoes," he replied automatically, still trying to make sense of what he was now seeing. "Muddy shoes." Then the door in front of him opened, revealing that whiny little rat of hers. "The dog."

"Good," his jailer smugly stated. "That's exactly what you should see."

Tom's heart jumped up into his throat when he suddenly found himself embracing Lidell, laying kisses along her throat. "But that isn't possible!"

"I'm sure it's disorienting to see yourself through another man's eyes,"

"No, I…" The images continued on, the same ones that had played in the courtroom just an hour or two before. "This isn't the way it happened."

The physician's voice was ice cold. "The trial's over, Mister Paris. There is no point in further denials."

Again he watched himself push Lidell away. "No, I didn't–" Then he saw the flash of the knife in front of his face, and felt himself trying to break his attacker's hold as Paris wound up and hurled the knife deep into his body, just above his hip. Tom could actually feel the pain of foreign metal in his organs, his hands flying to cover the area where the knife would have been. His lungs forced him to take another breath, and his confusion mounted as he felt himself fall down onto the floor, and the images faded away.

"Let the record show that the sentence of the court has been carried out. For the rest of his natural life, once every 14 hours, Thomas Eugene Paris will relive the last moments of his victim's life. May the fates have mercy on you, sir."

Tom blinked hard, his mind trying to integrate what had just happened into the shift back to the prison's treatment room. His body was behaving as if he'd actually been stabbed, trembling and weak, though still functioning as he automatically got to his feet when he felt the guard pull on his arm. He didn't know how he managed to put one foot in front of the other as he was led out into the main entrance area they had been in before, though his steps seemed to get stronger as they made their way down a corridor on the other side of the building. By the time they reached his new cell – his 'new accommodations', as the guard had put it – Tom's body seemed to be functioning more or less normally. Showing a decent amount of compassion, the guard actually guided him to the bed that ran along one wall before turning and leaving him alone.

This time, the room was different. Its colours were brighter, and there was a small window that showed he was on the third floor overlooking part of the city. Reality seemed faint now, mixed with black and white images that were still resonating in his head. He was spent and confused, still shaking from adrenaline, and his previous panic had been replaced with full-blown fear at the prospect of going through this process again and again. Not a single thought of Voyager, his new life, or how he was going to explain this to his friends entered his mind – it was a horrid, all-encompassing experience.

Not feeling strong enough to do anything else, he slowly laid down on a much more comfortable bed than he had started the day out on. His brain refused to shut down though, and his eyes popped open as he absently peered at the new walls that surrounded him.

At least they weren't grey.


End file.
